Chancing to gaze about and see his face, the girl started from her bright-eyed daydream. “Why, Lafe! what is it?” she inquired. “You look as you did the other day, when you brought the mail.”
“It’s––everything!” he muttered.
“As what?” she queried.
He shrugged hopelessly, hesitated, and drew out the roll of bills forced on him by Knowles. “Tell me, 131 please, just how much of this is mine, at your father’s usual rate of wages, and deducting the real value of that calf.”
“Why, I can’t just say, offhand,” she replied. “But why should you––”
“I shall tell you as soon as––but first––” He drew out his watch. “This cost me two hundred and fifty dollars. It is the only thing I have worth trading. Would you take it in exchange for Rocket and the balance of this hundred dollars over and above what is due me?”
“Why––no, of course, I wouldn’t think of such a thing. It would be absurd, cheating yourself that way. Anyhow, Rocket is your horse to ride, as long as you wish to.”
“But I would like him for my own. How about trading him for my pony and the wages due me?”
“Well, that wouldn’t be an unfair bargain. Your hawss is the best cow pony of the two.”
“It is very kind of you to agree, Miss Chuckie! Here is all the money; and here is the watch. I wish you to accept it from me as a––memento.”